


Inner Beasts

by Elivra



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Erwin Smith, Bottom Erwin Week, Canon Universe, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rough Sex, Spanking, can I ever stop writing tender eruris? no. will I? also no., or what goes for 'rough' by my standards, some gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:14:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24839020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elivra/pseuds/Elivra
Summary: The latest expedition has left Levi struggling to deal with his grief, and Erwin's strange demeanour is not helping.Written for Bottom Erwin Week 2020 (Day 8: Freeform)
Relationships: Levi/Erwin Smith
Comments: 8
Kudos: 114





	Inner Beasts

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Bottom Erwin Week everyone!! Here's my second smutfic _ever_ for the occasion!
> 
> This fic took an embarrassingly long time for me to finish. Conflict Eruris are not very easy to write and the smut element made it extra harder for me. But thanks to some very illuminating and encouraging discussions with my fellow Eruri shippers, I managed to work through my doubts and finish it! ^_^ I love this fandom, seriously.
> 
> Happy reading, and I hope you'll like it! <3

The _clip-clop_ sounds of the horses on the cobblestone seem to echo in Levi's ears. There are people murmuring around him, someone is starting to wail in the distance, but all Levi can hear, can focus on, are his horse's footsteps. 

That, and every single painful word falling from the old man's mouth.

 _Did she die well?_ What the fuck kind of question is that? Levi only knows dying and not-dying. You're either alive, breathing, talking and fighting and laughing, or you're stone-cold, dirty smelly rotting _dead_. 

The man does not stop following them. Grief is raising his voice, turning his eyes more hollow. "She said…" A hitch of breath. "She did say you were a man of few words." A skittering of pebbles as he still keeps up with them. "But can't you spare a word for her? At least now?" 

_Shit_ . Levi's throat is raw and dry and he can't, he has _nothing_ to say, to give him. "Captain!" The man wails. " _Say something—"_

"Your daughter fought valiantly," comes a voice next to Levi and he snaps his head up along with the old man. Erwin continues, "She was formidable in battle. There are many lives here now that would not have made it if it hadn't been for her strength."

The old man collapses onto his knees, shaking with silent sobs. Levi stares at him, feeling something ugly and hot blooming in his chest. Then he turns to Erwin, who is already looking right back at _him_. His blue eyes are as clear and cold as ice.

And Levi _can't_ , he can't take anymore — and so, jaws clenched, nostrils flared, he drags his horse with him and walks away, leaving Erwin behind with the grieving man.

*

* * *

Erwin catches up to him by the time they make it to the stables at the base. "Come with me to my office," he states as he dismounts.

"I need to stable her," Levi mutters.

"Leave it to Ness," Erwin says tersely.

"Ness is dead."

Erwin freezes for a moment. "Ah." Then he turns and calls for the nearest non-recruit — Lauda, who trudges up immediately, wearing the same grim expression as his comrades. "Stable our horses for us please." Lauda nods and turns to grab the horses' reins, ignoring Erwin's "thank you" with not a salute in sight, but Erwin doesn't seem to mind.

Levi marches ahead of Erwin, making sure not to limp even though his foot hurts more with every step. He is the first to enter Erwin's office, and makes straight for the desk. Erwin comes in followed by Hange, Mike, and Nanaba, just as he leans against the desk with a relief he takes care not to express. And yet—

"Sit down, Levi," Erwin says, gesturing at the couch as he shrugs off his jacket.

Levi shifts, crosses his arms over his chest. "I'm fine standing."

"Sit."

Levi feels himself turn red with indignation. He wants to protest, but Mike and Hange and Nanaba are watching, and he can't be petty. He crosses over to the couch, fighting through the pain, and sits. 

"I'll have a meeting soon with the other team leaders," Erwin tells everyone as he comes to sit next to Levi. "I'll let them settle in first. What are the preliminary numbers?" Then, quieter, he taps the end of Levi's boot. "Off."

Levi hesitates for a split second as Nanaba begins to speak, but Erwin’s jaw is still set, his eyes are still hard, and that’s how he knows this is a command he is expected to obey. The ugly thing in his chest growls as he grabs his boot, but then he pauses. He can't take off his boot. He knows because he has already tried on his horse, discreetly, but his ankle has swollen too much. And Erwin is clearly still waiting, so he reaches into his other boot and brings out his knife.

"...and I think Henning said he lost… two…" Nanaba stops talking as Levi saws his knife through the leather. The sound is overly loud in the quiet office.

"Continue, please," Erwin says, calm as ever, but Levi can see his jaw clench tighter.

Nanaba does, and Levi continues to cut through his well-worn boot. He’s almost done when the door opens and Moblit walks in bearing a first-aid kit and a bowl of water. Levi pauses, glances at Erwin, who takes the things from Moblit with a murmured “thank you”. When had he even spoken to Moblit about this? Levi feels another stab of anger and hides his frown under his fringe, then tosses his blade aside and yanks his boot off, just as Nanaba finishes talking.

His pained hiss is loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Gently, Captain,” Erwin mutters, and Levi wants to tell him to _shut the fuck up_ , he knows what he’s doing, but Erwin has already moved on, asking about their weapons status from Hange.

Levi hates this. It's bad enough that he has a stupid fucking injury that a rookie cadet would know to avoid; now he has to tend to it with an audience. It rankles within him, that these people, even if they're friends, have to see him like this. He's humanity's strongest, and now he's the weakest guy in the room. What a shitty joke.

He unbuckles the belts on his leg, slips out the padded support from under the arch of his sole, and rolls off his sock. And Erwin, still listening to Hange, dips a washcloth in the water and hands it to him. Levi snatches it and scrubs his foot, more annoyed now.

The meeting progresses in this manner, with Erwin not even looking at him, asking questions to the others, yet clearly still paying attention to Levi: he nudges the small table closer so Levi can rest his foot on it, he hands him a numbing salve, an ice pack, and eventually, a roll of bandages. He even holds the bandage down as Levi knots it into place. Only then does Erwin turn to him, but even then he isn’t looking right at him, focusing instead on some point near his shoulder.

"Your report, Levi?"

And in a detached manner, as if it happened to someone else, he tells them: how he followed the Female type Titan, how he cut her down and cut Eren free. He even tells them about the giant tear that had rolled down the creature's face — it seems unnecessary, but he knows it might be useful for Hange. 

He's right. "So Titans can cry," Hange whispers, disbelieving.

"We knew that from Langner's report," Erwin reminds them. They are quiet again. Levi feels like the numbness from his bound foot has spread to the rest of his body.

Erwin breaks the silence. "I'd like to speak to your team leaders now."

Mike lingers as the others begin to leave. "A word, Erwin."

Levi starts to move, but Erwin stops him by placing a hand on his shoulder as he stands up. Without another word, Erwin goes to Mike and they both step outside the office. Levi leans back, and stares at his foot. He can hear their low murmurs through the door.

_“Levi…” “...for now.”_

Irritation lances through his veins as the door shuts softly behind Erwin. They look at each other for a long moment.

"This was unnecessary," Levi spits. Erwin goes over to his desk and flips through some papers.

"I needed your debriefings separately—"

"Shut up." Levi gestures at his bound foot. "I meant this."

"You would not have done it otherwise," Erwin gathers up a stack of papers and comes back to sit next to him on the couch.

"I wouldn't have ignored an injury."

"No," Erwin agrees, and _finally_ looks at him. "But you would have waited. Pretended it wasn't bad. Made it worse."

"It isn't bad," Levi grits out.

"You didn't even try to take down the titans that Dieter led to us."

Levi huffs. Erwin is right, if he hadn't had that injury, he would've gone back and killed every one of those titans. They would've lost no more lives, they wouldn't have lost the bodies they had so carefully recovered, they would've brought them home—

"I'm sorry."

"Don't." Levi snaps so furiously that Erwin leans back a little. Then the doors open and people begin to swarm inside.

"You can go, Captain," Erwin states, completely formal once more. "Go and rest."

Levi stands up, shoves his bound foot into his ruined boot because he wouldn't dare walk barefoot in the filthy corridors. "I need to look after the brat."

"Eren is being taken care of," Erwin says as he nods to some of the team leaders. "Look after yourself."

"Eren is my responsibility."

"That was an order, Levi." Erwin glances at him once, face as stiff as a wall. "Go rest."

Levi feels the ugliness rearing up inside his chest again. Wordlessly, he gathers up the kit and stalks out of the room, and has to use all of his strength to avoid limping or slamming the doors shut behind him

*

* * *

Levi is in hell. 

He can't sleep. Can't sit still. He wants to pace but his foot hurts too much. He wants to scream but everyone can hear. He wants—

Erwin had been reading the night before the Expedition, so there still are piles of books on the bed. On _his_ side of the bed. He tries to lie down on Erwin's side, but it feels _off_ somehow and he can't. He can't take it. He wants to put the books away but his foot hurts. He can't simply push them away, or stack them on the floor because what's the point, he might as well put them back in their shelves but his foot fucking _hurts_ —

And the room feels too stuffy but when he opens the windows the breeze is too cold and he can't, he can't stay still, can't stop thinking, can't help but see Oluo's entrails on the floorboards in the corner and he needs to clean that up, needs the mop, but he knows there isn't really anything there and his foot hurts, and then there is the shadow of a branch which is a wire bearing Gunther's severed head and his foot _still_ _hurts_ —

And _Erwin._ Fucking Erwin, who never pretended on orders when they weren’t required, never cloaked his concern with commands as he had done in the office, hasn’t resorted to deciding for him instead of _with_ him for a long time now. Levi doesn’t like to remember the stiff, uncoordinated “I’m sorry” that had tumbled from Erwin's mouth in those few brief moments in the office, does _not_ like the memory of his eyes, cold and hard and _loud_ , somehow, as he addressed Petra’s father.

Everything seems twisted, turned on its head. Nothing is the same as it was just a few weeks, days, _hours_ ago. His entire squad is gone. He knew, as all of them did, that death was never far away, always nipping at their heels, that one day they might lose someone without warning. He knew, he _knew_ to expect it. And yet. They were all gone in one fell swoop. Gone when he wasn’t with them, gone _because_ he wasn’t with them.

He hasn’t often thought of these things. He’s always known them, from the moment he saw his mother lie unmoving on her bed, Levi just knows not to be surprised when death’s indiscriminate blade would fall to change his life irrevocably. But he thinks about it now, looks at the books piled on the bed next to him, sees Erwin’s civilian cardigan on the back of one of the chairs, and he feels sudden, pure panic rise up within him.

He tries to calm himself with some slow breaths. Clenches and unclenches his fists. Counts the ceiling beams. It’s simultaneously working and not. He can’t think straight, and he needs to stop. He needs to do _something._

He gives up and leaves the room, closing the door behind him with a bang.

He walks quickly, limping only when he is sure he is alone in the corridors. The stairs to the lower levels hurt but he grits his teeth through it. When he reaches the final corridor, he is unsurprised to see a tall, bulky figure slumped on a chair opposite the lone door.

Mike doesn’t look up as Levi approaches, only does so when Levi speaks. “You running errands for him now? Thought you were a Squad Leader, not a dumb recruit.”

“You’re indisposed,” Mike says calmly, glancing at Levi’s foot. “So I had to do it.”

Levi sniffs, annoyed, and leans back against the stone wall next to him. They both watch the closed door in silence for a few moments.

“I’m sorry about the squad,” Mike murmurs, and Levi shifts to stand upright.

“You can go, I’ll take it from here.”

“My orders were to watch the kid,” Mike says, crossing his arms. “And yours were to rest.”

“Leave, Mike.”

Mike looks up at him again, actually squinting past his lanky bangs, as if he’s sizing him up. Levi glares coldly back. Then Mike sighs, and stands up. “Alright.” He starts to walk away, but pauses briefly to clasp Levi’s shoulder. “Take care of that leg. We need you.” He leaves without waiting for Levi’s answer.

Levi stays frozen in place for a moment, feeling the ugliness stretch and roar in his chest. Then he strides to the door, and whips it open. The kid is awake. Good.

“Come on, brat. We’re having tea.”

They walk in silence. Eren doesn’t seem to notice that Levi is walking slower than usual; if he does, he’s smart enough to not remark upon it. They’re almost at their destination when a soldier finds them, tells them that Erwin is in some sort of secret meeting. The soldier also informs them to keep himself and Eren available in the smaller dining room off the large mess hall to be briefed on the situation. Eren seems curious at first, but seems to lose interest rather quickly, his features settling into a sort of solemn numbness. Levi can’t blame the kid. 

His leg is starting to act up again, so he makes the brat go make the tea. He knows how, after all, Petra’s had _weeks_ to teach him—

 _Stop._ He can’t follow that thought. He mustn’t.

As he hears Eren potter about in the small adjoining pantry where he keeps his tea things, Levi thinks of the tea set he shared with his squad and lets himself feel a little glad that Petra taught the boy after all.

*

* * *

It’s a kid. Another fucking _child_ within a Titan. A young adolescent girl is the culprit, the fiend that culled his squad in minutes. Levi is outwardly calm, but a veritable storm seems to be lashing his mind as he participates in planning their attack against this kid. It’s getting harder for him to make sense of his thoughts. Everything’s so fucked up.

Mike and Hange join the meeting halfway through, and they plan some more. To Levi, it feels like they’re going around in circles, but he knows they’re just covering all bases. He listens to Mike detail how his squad will be handling the remaining recruits, watches Hange wax eloquent about their remaining snares and weapons. Timelines and chains of command are established, contingencies are revisited, their individual missions are reiterated once more to eliminate any lingering confusion. Everyone at the table will be seeing the plan in their sleep.

"Dismissed," Erwin finally says, and everyone except Levi scrambles to their feet. The veterans leave without a hint of worry or concern, but Eren's face looks like thunder as he marches away and Levi watches his brat friends hurry out of the room to follow him. And now it's just him and Erwin again.

 _Erwin_ , who still isn't looking at him as he stands up. "Go to bed, Levi," he mutters and starts to leave when Levi says, loud and clear in the empty room, "No."

Erwin pauses. "I have paperwork to do—"

"I'll come with you." Levi stands up, the screech of his chair too loud. His fingers freeze on the rim of his teacup when Erwin repeats, "Go to bed."

"No."

"Your injury—"

"I don't need my leg to write."

The defiant glare Levi's directing at him seems to make Erwin's own expression harden. "Go to bed, Levi."

"No."

Erwin's nostrils flare. "That was an order."

And Levi _snaps_. He is in front of Erwin before even thinking about it, and easily, very easily, he grabs Erwin by the shoulders and slams him against the wall. "I said fucking _no_."

"This is insubordination," Erwin says calmly, _too calm_ , and Levi has nothing to say to that. Instead, his fist speaks for him and he punches the wall, hard, right next to Erwin's face. They both glare at each other as they hear the stone dust crackle in the silence that follows. Levi can feel the skin on his knuckles begin to burn.

"You're making a scene," Erwin whispers.

And maybe it's that low velvet voice of his, maybe it's the fact that Levi’s heart is thudding madly, maybe the way he’s thrumming with energy, and anger and so many, many emotions. Maybe it's all of these things that make him shove his knee between Erwin's legs, make him lean even closer so he can feel Erwin's warm hitch of breath in his face.

"So let's go somewhere it isn't a _scene_ ," he growls.

Erwin’s hard expression finally breaks; he swallows hard, and Levi watches his throat bob with a predatory interest. "Your leg," Erwin murmurs, ice blue eyes wide and unblinking.

Levi nudges his raised leg, rubs against the growing hardness he can feel even through layers of cloth. "You mean this one?" He feels a wild thrill when Erwin lets out an involuntary sound from the back of his throat. He leans in, presses himself against the strong bulk of Erwin's body. The screaming in his head is finally, _finally_ receding. This is familiar territory. This is something he knows from years of habit and shared intimacy. No more thinking, no more fretting, just plain need and desire and an exhilarating rush of power. This, Levi can do.

He nudges his leg again, harder, and revels in the gasp that it elicits. "Enough telling me what to do," he mutters, baring his teeth. "Now _I'm_ going to tell you what to do, got it?"

The pupils of Erwin's eyes are blown wide. He nods. Levi grabs his collar, pulls him closer until their noses are almost touching. " _Got it?"_

"...Yes."

Levi hums. "Good." He presses up to Erwin for a split breathless second before stepping away. "Give me a minute." Erwin nods stiffly and Levi gathers his and Eren's teacups and goes to his little pantry. He is excited, impatient to go back to Erwin but he _can't_ leave the dirty cups.

He is quick, methodical as he rinses and dries, his mind running through scenarios, trying to plan for what's to come next… so when it happens, it takes him by surprise. He opens the cupboard to put the cups away, and freezes. His whole tea set is waiting for him.

The tea set his squad used.

And _fuck_ he can't move. He sees that one of the cups is slightly out of place — Oluo was always so impatient — sees the careful drape of the tea cosy Petra had once gifted for his birthday on the pristine kettle. The ugliness rears its head in his chest once more.

He must have waited too long, because he hears footsteps, and then Erwin's low voice from the doorway. "Levi?"

His voice jolts through him. "Did I tell you you could move?" He growls, a beat too late.

"You didn't say I couldn't," Erwin says, scrutinising him intently despite the flippant words.

"Don't act smart with me," Levi snaps and turns back around, grits his teeth when the teacups rattle as he returns them to the shelf. Erwin doesn’t say anything, just watches him with that keen gaze of his, that look that always makes Levi feel like Erwin sees through him completely.

He fucking _hates_ that look. 

They walk to their chambers in silence. Erwin slows down, clearly accommodating his injured foot, but Levi doesn’t give him the satisfaction of slowing his own pace. And so, he leads the way, despite his ankle smarting with pain.

Levi lets Erwin walk in before him and closes and locks the door. When he turns around, he sees Erwin is frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the pile of books on the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his blue eyes wide as if he’s forgotten. Of course he has. “I’ll put them away—”

“Go wash yourself,” Levi says instead, striding past him. Then he whips around to glare at Erwin for good measure, sensing the argument coming from him. “I’m not touching you if you’re filthy.”

Erwin closes his mouth, nods stiffly, then goes to the attached washroom. Then, to the sounds of the taps running, Levi moves the books around on the bed to free up more space. He has to clench his fists to prevent himself from doing more, his nails pressing into his palms. This can wait. He can do this later. He cannot let himself get caught in a cleaning spiral, not now, not yet. He focuses on the sting in his palms, on the gentle sounds of water and Erwin in the washroom.

By the time Erwin returns, with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, Levi is rummaging in the shelves. He turns around, grunts in approval at the sight of a visibly scrubbed Erwin, then nods at the towel. As he walks back to him, Erwin drops the towel obediently and waits. 

And Levi pauses, just for a moment. Looks at Erwin’s blank face, the thinly pressed line of his lips, the stiff and deferential way in which he holds himself. Levi snorts humourlessly and goes to stand in front of him.

“At ease, soldier,” he says, and is glad to see Erwin wince at the mocking tone. Erwin does begin to loosen his stance, but freezes with a hiss when Levi grabs his dick. Levi smirks up at him, and lightly waves what he brought with him from the shelves — one of his cravats, washed and pristine. And before Erwin can even open his mouth, Levi quickly loops the cravat around his cock just before his balls, and ties it up in a firm knot.

“Too tight?” Levi asks him.

Erwin shakes his head, but Levi squeezes lightly, making Erwin hisses another gasp.

“I asked you a question.”

“I — No.”

“Good.”

Levi lets go of him, and Erwin breathes out a sigh. Levi wants to lap it up, feel his breath fill up all the empty, ugly voids in his chest… but it can wait. All in good time. He nods at the bed. “Get the oil and get started.”

Erwin swallows, nods, then goes to fetch the oil. Levi drags one of the chairs to face the bed some distance away, and sits in it, crossing his legs and arms, hiding his impatience in his coiled limbs. When Erwin turns around, Levi has already anticipated his question. “Kneel on the bed. Face away.”

Erwin obeys, and Levi marvels at how promptly he does so. He walks a little awkwardly from the knotted cravat, but he is still the picture of grace, of strength. The beast in Levi’s chest is screeching, and he suddenly feels hysterical. Erwin has always been beautiful, but in this moment, it somehow seems very _wrong_. He doesn’t want to dwell on why.

Erwin kneels on the edge of the bed, turns away so his backside is facing Levi. _Gods_ , he really is beautiful, Levi thinks sourly. As Erwin uncaps the bottle and coats his fingers, Levi’s hands automatically fly to his own belt. He waits as Erwin carefully stoppers the bottle again, waits as he sets the bottle on the floor, waits until just the right moment. And as Erwin slips in his first finger, Levi draws himself out, begins to stroke himself lightly.

He feels the spark in his veins, feels his blood start to pump hotter as Erwin starts to pump his finger, feels all of those feelings feed the creature housed in his chest, feels it calm down, turn tame. Erwin pushes another finger in, and Levi calls out, “Bend over.”

His voice is so jarring in the silence that Erwin flinches and his fingers slip out. “Go on,” Levi mutters, gives himself a nice, firm stroke, “I need a better view.” And Erwin — beautiful, stiff, somehow _wrong_ Erwin — complies; he bends down, his ass sticking in the air, and with a little bit of contortion, pushes his fingers in again.

Levi lets out a soft sigh of approval. His focus narrows to just two things — the measured stroke of his own hand on his cock, and Erwin. His two fingers pumping in and out slowly, flexing and scissoring to stretch better. The scars on his thick thighs that everyone in the military is sure to have thanks to the gear. The rigid planes of his back, the lines of his muscle beginning to glisten from the exertion. His golden hair just barely visible beyond his hunched shoulder, mussed on the sheets. He looks so beautiful that Levi loses his rhythm, suddenly overwhelmed. This man. This _fucking_ — 

A flinch traverses through Erwin’s taut muscles, and Levi pauses again, watching. The fingers are moving slower now. More deliberate.

“Another,” Levi says, and Erwin freezes for a moment, then nudges another finger in, slowly, _slowly_. Levi’s breath leaves him in a silent huff. This is incredibly arousing, more so than Levi imagined. He should have tried this sooner, under better circumstances—

The monster rumbles in his chest, and he grits his teeth and begins to stroke himself faster. He sees Erwin falter again infinitesimally; Levi’s cock is leaking precum now, and the sounds are so obvious he knows Erwin knows. The very idea is even more arousing.

He lets Erwin move all three of his fingers some more ( _much_ slower now), and feels the approach of the familiar overwhelming feeling. He moves his hand away and calls out, “Stop.”

And Erwin does so, instantly.

Levi stands up, steps out of his pants and underwear, and walks over to him. Erwin doesn’t move, his face still pressed sideways to the bed, his hand lying limp next to him, his entire body visibly clenched in anticipation.

“Are you ready?” He murmurs, feels the corners of his mouth quirk when Erwin says “Please.” It is the first time Erwin has spoken in a while, and he sounds breathless. Pained, almost. Perfect.

When Levi finally places his hands on his hips, Erwin breathes out an audible sigh, his stiff back relaxing, then tenses again when his hands move down his hips to stroke his bare ass. Levi is toying with him now, so close yet not moving closer. Levi sees Erwin’s knuckles grip the sheets, clenching whiter as Levi keeps caressing his ass.

There is a long moment of silence, of Erwin’s forcedly calm breathing. Levi watches him, feels fire in his veins, feels the ugliness growl and writhe inside him, hungering for his prey. He pauses for the smallest split second, then raises his hand and smacks Erwin’s ass, _hard_.

Erwin practically yelps in shock, his entire body jolting forward. Levi lets him breathe through the unexpected burn, then slaps him again, once, twice, thrice in rapid bursts, alternating between both his asscheeks. When he relents, he could swear he hears a muffled whimper. The pale skin of Erwin’s buttocks is turning an angry red.

“Been craving this, haven’t you?” Levi says conversationally, pauses as if waiting for a response, then slapping him, thrice again. This time the pained huff is louder, echoes around the room, and Levi drinks it in. He doesn’t need an answer. The question was rhetorical; he _knows_ Erwin wants it, has had years to understand when he needs it without a word being exchanged between them. He watches Erwin squirm and roll his hips jerkily as if that’ll do him any good, and feels himself smirk again.

“Fucking. Pervert.” He punctuates his words with more hits. “Look at you.” _Smack._ “Enjoying this.” _Smack._ “Erwin-whore-Smith.” _Smack smack._

Erwin lets out a proper whimper now, no hiding it this time. His skin is flushed bright. Levi’s palm is burning and he feels a swell of satisfaction in his chest when he imagines how the burn would’ve felt for Erwin.

“Please,” he whispers, and Levi almost laughs as the ugly beast does.

“Please what.”

“Please I’ll. I’ll be good.”

“Hmm.” Levi rubs gentle circles on Erwin’s ass, and he can feel him shudder, whether in relief or dread he can’t tell. Maybe it’s both, the pervert. “How?”

He lets the question linger in the still air, watches Erwin squirm even more. A beat passes, then two, and then—

 _Smack._ “I asked you a question.”

Erwin’s breathing has turned ragged. “H-how what,” he wheezes. Levi lifts his hand again and as if he has heard it move, he blurts, “Please.”

He sounds so earnest Levi relents. “How will you be good for me, Erwin?”

“I’ll do. Anything. Anything you like.” When Levi says nothing, he says again, “Please.”

“Oh?” Levi caresses his skin again, it has turned warm from his hard spanking. “Can barely talk right, and you’ll do _anything?”_

He sees a shudder pass through him — even his hole fucking _quivers_ , and Levi feels his cock twitch in turn. Fuck. 

“I. I’m sorry.”

“For what.”

Erwin flounders; Levi can see him mouth at the sheets, and he gives him four more hard slaps, closer to his hole now. Erwin whines, his hands slip on the sheets and he tips forward. He looks completely wrecked, _already._

“What are you sorry for, Erwin?” Levi repeats. 

“Whatever made you angry. Everything.” That’s no answer, and Levi smacks him again, and again, three more times until Erwin cries out, “Please!” Levi stops, but Erwin is still breathing hard, and Levi would almost think he’s actually sobbing, if he didn’t know the fucker.

“I’m sorry for you!” Erwin blurts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for everything— for everyone, I’m sorry I made you… Levi, I’m sorry—”

Levi suddenly feels a chill descend upon him. Erwin doesn’t need to say any more, and as if in a daze, Levi breathes, “Get up.” There is screaming in his head again, _shit_. “I said get the fuck up, Erwin.” Erwin sits up and turns around slowly. He’s a mess: his hair is ruffled, his face is flushed red with sweat, and his _eyes_ . Despite looking wet (from the pain, no doubt), his eyes are still the same: cold, blue, _screaming_. 

Just like the inside of Levi’s head.

“Explain,” he bites. 

Erwin brushes his clean hand across his face. When he speaks, his voice sounds ragged. Broken. “It’s my fault.”

“What?”

“I asked you. I made you refill your gas and blades. You could have reached them sooner. S— saved them, maybe.”

“But I would have run out of gas. Died, probably.”

Erwin looks at him. “Yes.”

"So you're sorry for doing your job?"

Erwin sighs, soft and harsh. "You know that's not what I mean."

He's right, Levi does know exactly what he means. He knows exactly what he's thinking, _damn_ him.

"You made your choice," Levi says slowly.

“I—” Erwin sighs again, softer. "I did. You’re right."

Silence descends upon them as Erwin's breathing slows, turns more gentle. Levi can hear Dieter’s scream in his head.

_Don't you have any human emotions left?_

Gritting his teeth, Levi leans forward, unties his cravat and whips it away, making Erwin hiss another sigh and visibly relax. "Do you want to finish?" He asks quietly.

Erwin closes his eyes and swallows, nods. "Please."

He tries to reach for him but Levi moves away and nods stiffly at the headboard of the bed. “On your back.” He pulls off his shirt as Erwin scoots back and adjusts the pillows, and picks up the bottle of oil. He slicks up his hand, and when Erwin holds up his hand as well, pours some oil for him too. Then Erwin lays back down and Levi leans over him. And begins anew.

Erwin is still mostly hard, and Levi lets out a soft hiss when Erwin takes him in hand as well. He could never do it the way Erwin does, smoother and warmer and more tender than he could ever be. He watches Erwin’s face, the frown that begins with a mere quirk of his thick eyebrows and grows with the blooming redness of his cheeks. Levi has seen this face so many times already, and yet each time it seems new — open and vulnerable in a way that steals his breath from his lungs. His veins seem to thrum with each slow stroke of Erwin’s hand, and his chest begins to feel full again, though somehow not _ugly_ anymore.

Erwin’s breath hitches when Levi’s hand slips down, brushes over his balls for a split second before moving further down to nudge at his hole. He is still open and loose, and Levi is easily able to slip three of his fingers in, watches Erwin grunt as his face turns redder still, feels his own breath quicken in bursts, and knows they’re both ready. 

Erwin stops when Levi does. As Levi slicks himself up some more and lines himself up, Erwin moves his clean hand to Levi’s side but Levi slaps it away.

 _Not yet_ , he tells himself, and Erwin seems to understand.

He pushes in slowly, but without pause, still watching. Erwin lets out a breathy moan, his fists clenched on the sheets on either side of him. Then he answers Levi’s unspoken question. “Move.”

And Levi does, he grabs onto Erwin’s calves, makes him fold even more into himself as Levi drags himself out, slowly, still watching, Erwin’s scrunched up eyes igniting sparks within him. “More,” Erwin breathes, and Levi moves faster, watches Erwin’s groans get louder each time he pushes all the way in.

“More, Levi, please,” he whispers, prays — practically _begs_ , how pathetic — but Levi can’t deny the fucker, never could deny him, not really.

Again and again, he watches Erwin move with his own thrusts, watches as he pleads for _more_ , again and again, and Levi can feel it, he can feel the rush of fire and thunder in his restless chest, his heart thudding with the screams building in his head, and he gives him more and more and more until he gives him everything he’s got.

Levi progresses quickly to a harsh, unforgiving rhythm, and Erwin doesn't seem to mind at all. He is almost bent double, his legs in the air, it must be uncomfortable, but Levi doesn't care, knows he can take it, knows he _wants_ it—

Erwin's moans fill the room. The bed begins to creak dangerously. And yet Levi goes on in the same furious pace, the restless feeling in his chest swelling until he feels he is consumed by it, his skin buzzing and crackling with energy and pain and he feels so _alive_ and it feels so _wrong_ , but his head is filled with nothing but Erwin's incessant "Levi!" and the bed creaking and the quick _slap-slap-slap_ staccato of his hips against Erwin's ass—

Erwin's face is twisted in a dry sob of agony, and Levi understands because he _knows_ this bastard… And he lets go of one leg, still fucking relentlessly, and tugs at Erwin's weeping cock twice, thrice — and Erwin comes with a shout that the whole base could probably hear, but neither of them cares at this point.

Levi feels the way Erwin clenches around his own cock and lets out a growl — he can't — he wants, he wants, _fuck_ he just _wants_ to fucking _explode_ , let it out, but he can't he can't he—

He pulls out and begins to jerk himself off, his hips still thrusting in empty space. His eyes are scrunched up and head thrown back, so he gasps out loud when Erwin wrenches his hand away, and before Levi can even make another sound, Erwin takes him in his mouth.

"Fuck!" Levi groans, nearly falling over — it must be disgusting, with the oil — but he doesn't hesitate, his hands go straight to Erwin's tousled hair, and he pushes his head down until he can feel his cock hit the back of Erwin's throat. They both moan yet again, and Levi fucks into his mouth as mercilessly as he did into his ass, and he knows he's moving too fast, that he's almost pulling Erwin's hair out with how hard he's grabbing it, but he knows the fucker can take it, he knows, he knows _everything_ Erwin fucking Smith is capable of and he _hates_ it, he hates this, everything about this, and _fuck_ , he hates him so fucking much but he hates himself even more because he knows he doesn't, _oh_ he doesn't hate him at _all—_

And finally, _finally_ he feels the orgasm swell over his senses, but just as he starts to come, on a sudden whim he drags Erwin's head back off of his cock, ignoring the involuntary cry of pain, and blows the rest of his load all over Erwin's face, his voice escaping him in a strangled wail of relief.

He sinks back on his haunches, ignoring the twist of pain from his bandaged ankle, and simply watches Erwin watch him back, the sudden silence ringing in his ears. He feels the exhaustion creeping up on him, weighing his eyelids down, but then Erwin stirs and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and Levi makes himself swing off the bed to limp to the bathroom.

"I can—"

"Don't," he snaps and Erwin shuts up.

Levi returns with several washcloths and a bowl full of water. He pours some into a glass and hands it to Erwin, who accepts it wordlessly and uses it to rinse his mouth. Levi begins scrubbing both of them in firm, quick swipes but taking care to be gentler on Erwin's ass, which still sports red finger marks. Meanwhile, Erwin wipes his own face, and yet in the end Levi reaches for his face anyway, his movements turning soft. He lingers over Erwin's eyebrows, brushing at them with a tenderness that makes his own heart ache with disgust.

Erwin's gaze is boring into him, but his expression is soft, softer even than Levi's touches.

"Thank you," he breathes and Levi can't take it anymore.

"I hate you," he mutters bitterly, and sets aside the washcloth.

Erwin's lips twitch in either a smile or a grimace, "I know." 

Levi swipes at his lower lip gently with his thumb. "I hate you," he repeats, softer.

"I wish you could take part in the mission tomorrow," Erwin admits.

Levi's hand finds his smooth cheek, gentle where his voice is gruff. "I know."

"Does it still hurt?"

"Yeah," Levi admits in his turn.

Erwin's brows twist in sympathy. "Come here."

And Levi goes, lies down in the space Erwin makes for him by shuffling backwards. He's sleeping on Erwin's side of the bed again, but that doesn't seem to matter anymore. Erwin's hand cradles his face immediately, fingers brushing along his cheek, his eyelid. Levi lets him for a moment, then grabs his hand to move it away.

But then he looks down at the relaxed, upturned palm, at the calloused skin, at the vivid white scar stretching across it. Without even thinking about it, he leans down and gently kisses the scar he put on the only man he has ever loved.

When he looks up at Erwin, his blue eyes seem to glimmer in the candlelight. Wordlessly, he tugs Levi into a loose embrace and presses his lips onto his, _finally_. Levi melts into the kiss, feels the edges of his emotions blunt with every little caress Erwin gives him. And finally he can think straight, finally the screaming monster in his chest is gone, leaving behind a familiar hollow whose ache dims with Erwin’s touches. He can finally think of his squad, about how much he’s going to miss them, about how empty his chest feels every time he remembers that he _wasn’t there._

He thinks about how he can’t ever let that happen again, how the very idea makes him near hysterical with worry.

"I—" Levi speaks even as Erwin keeps pecking kisses onto his mouth, "I'm bringing my gear tomorrow."

Erwin’s nose brushes against his. "You shouldn't."

Levi smacks a harsher kiss on his mouth. "I should." He grunts, relaxing a bit as Erwin's mouth wanders over his cheek, beneath his ear. "Especially if Mike's not going to be there."

Erwin pauses, then huffs a warm breath over his neck. "Fine. You're right." His hands move in slow, sure motions down his sides, indulging in all the touching Levi had denied him before. "But you're only using it as a last resort."

"And what would you call a last resort?" Levi mutters gruffly, fingers stroking through his blond hair. It's damp with sweat, and Levi idly wonders if they should just go shower again right now.

Erwin takes his time leaving a trail of kisses down his neck before replying. "I'll let you be the judge of that." His thumb presses into the dip of his hipbone as he glances up at him. "I told you, I trust you."

They hold each other's gaze for a long moment, then Levi grabs his face and hauls him back up to kiss him yet again. And when they break off, Levi feels the delayed exhaustion from his orgasm wash over him again. His head pillowed on Erwin's chest, he dozes to Erwin's hands leaving lazy trails of warmth on his skin.

Erwin stirs after a while and Levi is instantly alert. "What is it?"

"I have to go." Levi can hear the regret rumble beneath his ear.

"Paperwork?"

A soft press of lips on his forehead. "Yes."

"I'll come with you." Levi glances up as he speaks, trying to show with his frown that he isn't going to take any of the same bullshit from before. Erwin opens his mouth, "I—"

"Say another shitty word and I'll break your arm," Levi grumbles.

Erwin closes his mouth, his expression softening when Levi's frown deepens.

"I hate you," Erwin sighs ruefully.

Levi snorts, feels hysterical again but he quells it. "Yeah," he whispers, and kisses him, sighing when Erwin responds in kind, slow and deep, like this is the last time they'll get to do it. "I know." And he kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, that's that. I have been really, really hesitant to include the spanking part because I wasn't sure if I got the consent as well as the intent parts right. If you think there's something I need to change or fix, please do let me know! This is all still a learning experience for me! :)
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope I did justice to our lovely Commander Handsome and that he got all the bottom love that he deserved!! <3


End file.
